The Worth of a Life
by Andromakhe
Summary: It's the first anniversary of the Jedi massacre and Obi-Wan isn't taking it well. Happily, those who love him most aren't taking his nonsense. Inspired by Peter Gabriel's "Don't give Up" and Josh Groban's "You Raise Me Up."
1. Drowning

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Not making money. Not claiming ownership or affiliation with LucasFilm or Disney.

Spoilers: Eps I-III and "The Clone Wars" up to S5

A/N: This was intended to be a fic about Obi-Wan mourning the Jedi massacre, but it turned into something more personal and bitter. It's set a year or two after arriving on Tatooine, so my reasoning is the wound is still quite painful. You know the drill. I can't do sad endings.

/Bond speech/

Obi-Wan sat alone in his hut, his back to the closed door. He didn't want light or company. He just wanted to lay down his burdens and disappear. Alcohol was a tempting proposition, but given the mood he was in, it was probably unwise. His mood was also the reason he'd put his lightsaber with Anakin's in a trunk, his robe folded neatly on top of them with the lid closed. This was a day to remember his failures, his losses, his regrets. In his hand, he held a holograph of himself and his Master, in happier days when the future looked bright and he was sure of his purpose. He couldn't quite bring himself to destroy it, despite feeling like the holo was mocking him. He settled for throwing it across the room.

"Obi-Wan, is that any way to treat us?" Qui-Gon chided gently, appearing across from him on the floor.

"You did it first, when you chose Anakin," Obi-Wan retorted sullenly. "If you want to scold someone, scold him."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "You know you were ready for the Trials. And no one else was willing to train him."

"And rightly so. It's not like it did any good. Over a decade of my life in his service and yours, and what do I have to show for it? I've lost everything I could possibly lose." He began counting on his fingers. "My home. My friends. My career. My rank. My reputation." And in a whisper, "Myself."

"No, Padawan. Your identity is the one thing you haven't lost. Believe it or not, you are more than just a Jedi."

"No. I'm not a Jedi. I don't want the responsibility. The galaxy will just have to learn to take care of itself. It was the will of the Force for us to be destroyed, apparently. So be it." Obi-Wan was bitter and defiant.

Qui-Gon shook his head. "Padawan, what's gotten into you?"

"No. Don't call me that. I'm Ben Kenobi now, remember?" His tone was sharp, mocking.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said firmly, "it was the will of the Force to save you. No matter what you say, you cannot undo your training or your knowledge of the Force and lightsaber combat. You are needed still. The combined Light of our strongest and wisest exists to counter the Sith Darkness."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I'm tired of looking out for a galaxy that doesn't appreciate it. You're forgetting that most people hate us and think we're the reason the Sith have taken over. Our name is scorned and cursed. If we're lucky, we're pitied. It isn't worth caring for people who don't care in return."

Qui-Gon frowned thoughtfully. "All right. Fair enough," he conceded. "But what about those who do care for you? I cannot believe they don't matter to you."

"There aren't many, and the ones I can think of are resilient and shrewd. They do not need me to protect or take care of them."

"You're so certain?" Qui-Gon's tone was reminiscent of Yoda's at his most condescending. "And I take it you don't need them?"

Obi-Wan stared hard at Qui-Gon. "If they're going to take that tone, then no. Master or not, I don't have to stay here and take that. If you hadn't been so reckless with Maul, maybe you'd have lived to train Anakin and the Sith would be destroyed now." Obi-Wan stood up and headed for his door.

Obi-Wan didn't see Qui-Gon's hurt expression, or the way Qui-Gon's eyes darted to the cloak on the sleep couch, or even the way he stared worriedly after Obi-Wan's retreating form as it stalked outside. But over their bond, which Obi-Wan hadn't closed, Qui-Gon murmured kind and sad, /I'm sorry I loved you more than myself./ Qui-Gon felt the bond close then, so abruptly it made him start, and he saw Obi-Wan drop to the sand and take a deep, shaky breath. Knowing where his boy was headed, Qui-Gon scouted ahead and saw that his way was clear. No danger would befall him aside from the chill of the desert night. Qui-Gon maneuvered Obi-Wan's cloak to drape gently across his shoulders before withdrawing silently. He saw Obi-Wan tug the cloak closer around him, but he didn't wear it properly. He merely resumed his journey, shoulders hunched and expression lost.


	2. Refuge

Asajj lay drowsing on her bed in her makeshift home, her mind drifting aimlessly, when she noted Obi-Wan's Force signature nearby. This was strange, because usually, they spent nights at his place. Still, it was no real issue if he wished to stay at her place that night. She felt him hesitate at the entrance and then come in. Asajj made no move to get up, though she did raise a hand in quiet greeting and turn toward him with a smile, which promptly faltered when she noted his sadness in the Force. Obi-Wan sat on the edge of her bed and draped his cloak partially over it. And then Asajj sat up in alarm. "Obi-Wan. Your lightsaber. Where is it?" The tone was more harsh than she'd intended, but a Jedi with no lightsaber was practically unheard of, and the idea he'd come without one was unlike him. He knew better.

Obi-Wan sighed wearily. "Asajj, please don't start with me. I put the lightsaber away. It is…unwise for me to carry it at the moment."

Asajj stared at Obi-Wan, sure something else was off about his appearance. "Your robe. Why aren't you wearing it?"

Obi-Wan just shrugged. "It no longer suits me. The Jedi are gone. It is better I accept this and forget my training. I think you were right all along. We are no good for the galaxy and the Force willed the Sith to rule."

"What?" Asajj choked out. "Did you just say what I think I heard? You? Turning your back on your people and your way of life? And further, not opposing the Sith? You know the Jedi are the only hope to stop them."

"Asajj, why bother opposing them when we weren't meant to win? The Sith took everything from me - everything that ever mattered to me. Why is it **my** job to deal with them? The galaxy's getting along just fine without the Jedi."

"Getting along fine? Kenobi, do you realize Force-sensitives are being killed just because of their abilities? That people have to live in fear that they'll be tortured to death? That as long as the Sith are in power, I am in danger?"

Obi-Wan had begun to stretch out on Asajj's bed, but stopped and sat up again when she mentioned her own danger because of her past affiliation with the current regime. Asajj could tell this was an angle he hadn't considered and was heartened that he looked genuinely concerned. Maybe the Obi-Wan she knew was still alive in there, but how to reach him? Because the Obi-Wan she was confronted with now was so wrong. If her Jedi had lost hope, then the galaxy was doomed. Asajj was absolutely certain of this. Maybe the galaxy didn't need the entire Order, but it sure as heck needed him. It was his job to stay steady and strong. Didn't he know that? And then it dawned on her.

How could he be strong if his Light was being swallowed by Darkness? Even a Jedi had limits. Asajj knew his kind were in disrepute with the general populace, but most never considered, never appreciated the hell the Jedi went through during the Clone Wars, or even the fact it wasn't actually their fault. Asajj found that Obi-Wan's unwillingness to identify as a Jedi and his doubts about their worth broke her heart. She remembered feeling similarly when Ky had died. What was the point anymore, with no one to be proud, with no one to serve and to serve with? All that had been left to her was pain and emptiness.

Asajj lay down and pulled Obi-Wan against her tenderly. She felt him relax and go limp in her arms. She kissed him soothingly on his brow, his cheek, his neck, his lips. She even lifted his hand and kissed the back of his fingers, the way he sometimes did with her.

"I've been selfish," Obi-Wan whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry." He blinked rapidly and closed his eyes sadly.

"Sssssh," Asajj answered. "No shame, my dear. It helps no one. I should know. What troubles you so much that you would renounce your affiliation, your identity?"

Obi-Wan stiffened and began to pull away. "You know, I'd have thought you'd be pleased I no longer wish to be a Jedi," came the muttered reply.

"I thought I would be, too," Asajj answered, retaining her hold on Obi-Wan. "But I don't think you really want to be a civilian."

"So you know what's best for me?" Obi-Wan shot back sarcastically, opening his eyes.

Asajj sighed and let go of him. "If it's really what you want, I'd support you all the way. Excuse me for trying to keep you from doing something you'll regret. I thought that's what love was. Look, you can borrow a lightsaber again. Go back home until you're thinking straight. I'm not obligated to put up with this." She held out a lightsaber, holding it vertically, then nudged his hand with it insistently.

Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder at the way out, then into Asajj's eyes, and shook his head at the lightsaber. "Please let me stay," he pleaded. "I…I can't go back there. Not tonight."

Asajj gasped as Obi-Wan's eyes filled with tears. "Obi-Wan," came her pitying tone, "how do you always do this? What's happened to you? Wait…This is the day the Empire was born, the day the Jedi…" Asajj's eyes widened in horrified realization as she threw her lightsaber next to its twin and hugged Obi-Wan fiercely. "Why didn't you tell me? I'm so sorry." She held Obi-Wan firmly as his gears dampened her clothing. "Stay. Of course, you can stay," was her whispered assurance, as she cried with him.

"I failed everyone," Obi-Wan whispered brokenly, "and I have nothing to offer anyone. I don't know why you bother with me. I'm just a remnant of an Order you never liked anyway, and now I don't even have prestige or power because the Republic is fallen. I'm not even young anymore. I'm just someone you end up having to protect."

"Maybe I like the ego boost," Asajj teased.

"Darling, that hurts," Obi-Wan spluttered, though Asajj caught the laughter in his words as well.

"You know, you make yourself sound absolutely pathetic. It would be funny in different circumstances. How the mighty have fallen and all. But you should know me better than you seem to. I don't care what others think, and I judge people on an individual basis. And no one is as understanding, as forgiving, as compassionate, or as accepting as you. You're the only one who has what it takes to deal with me, and you're the only one I can really be me with. I know you aren't going to abandon me just because I make one too many mistakes. I'm not going to abandon you just because you can't be strong all the time.

"As for your Order, keep in mind I never hated them enough to bomb the Temple, let alone committing cultural genocide. I saw them as favoring the rich over the poor too much, which looked hypocritical, but I never really had a problem with most of the ideals. The galaxy right now is a galaxy without the Jedi, and to be completely honest, I actually prefer them in it."

At some point during her speech, Obi-Wan's tears had subsided. He found he couldn't find words to express the gratitude he felt. Maybe…Maybe he didn't have to be all things to all people. Perhaps it was time to rethink whose opinions really mattered in the long run. Why had he spent his life caring about the expectations of those who disowned him at the first sign of trouble? Not just disowned, but betrayed as well. His Master had always known this, had always tried to teach him this. This was why Qui-Gon defied the Council, why he never aspired to be on it. Because he didn't want to have to be mindful of the opinions of people who didn't matter. And Obi-Wan had just told him he didn't need him. He opened his bond to Qui-Gon carefully but found it silent, dead. Obi-Wan flinched in Asajj's arms as though physically wounded. "Master…He abandoned me," Obi-Wan murmured in a small voice.

"What? I thought he died. I'm sure if he could have stayed, he would have. But kind of difficult given his situation, right?"

"No. I mean now. I said I didn't need him and he left. The bond is dead."

"Well, what were you expecting? Hasn't it been about fourteen years?"

"Well, yes. But I didn't expect him to desert me quite so fast."

Asajj blinked in confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about. You shouldn't be surprised that your bond is silent if he's no longer around. But if what you say is true and he's willfully ignoring you somehow, maybe he isn't worth caring about."

Obi-Wan glared at her. "Hey, watch it," he growled.

/Easy, Padawan,/ Qui-Gon soothed. /The bond is usually dead when you are with her. It is not something I need to watch closely. You two are responsible adults, after all. Apologies for my late response. I was with Adi when I felt your probe. I needed to collect myself./

/Oh, I see,/ Obi-Wan grinned. /My apologies for the…untimely disturbance. I'm sorry about what I said earlier as well. You and Asajj. I don't know what I'd do without either of you./

At this point, Asajj stared curiously at Obi-Wan. He looked pleased. And distracted. It was as though he'd forgotten her, even though they still lay in each other's embrace. She felt nothing amiss in the Force, nothing unusual. But Obi-Wan's change in demeanor was rather abrupt. Perhaps his Master returned to him? But how? And yet, it was the only logical explanation based on his words. She wanted answers.

/Young one, what do you take us for? Idiots? I expect you to show that wise woman of yours some proper thanks. And I never have and never will desert you. And one more thing: Trust your instincts./ With a sly chuckle, the bond went silent again.

Obi-Wan chuckled aloud and pulled Asajj on top of him. "Let me show you how much I need you," he murmured throatily.

Asajj grinned wickedly. Answers could wait.


End file.
